


Bon Appétit

by GallicGalaxy



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Coming Untouched, Intercrural Sex, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Scent Kink, don't worry there's no actual cannibalism in this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 11:57:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20242483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GallicGalaxy/pseuds/GallicGalaxy
Summary: Hannibal gets a taste of Will - and a thorough one, at that.





	Bon Appétit

**Author's Note:**

> *shows up to Hannibal 6 years late with a starbucks* Hannibal eats ass lmao
> 
> *accidentally doesn't upload anything for two years* hell yeah bitches, I'm not dead I'm just a pos lmao  
but as compensation I suppose this fic is C H O N K Y. 15k+ is a lot for PWP jesus who has time to read that much ass eating

“You seem restless. Unfocused.”

Will let his head loll to one side listlessly as he stared Hannibal down.

“I am.” He said tersely.

“What is it that's...occupying your mind?”

Though the glint in his eyes betrayed a spark of curiosity, Hannibal very well knew the answer to that question. His interest was not in the end result, which he could already envision, but the method; he was waiting eagerly to observe how Will went about trying to get at what he wanted.

“You.” Was Will's answer, bald and inarticulate. His focus was the opposite of Hannibal's: all he wanted was the result. How he got there was unimportant to him.

Hannibal raised his brow as though he was surprised. He wasn't.

“What about me, specifically?”

“You know what.”

Both remained taciturn, neither budging an inch from their stances. Will watched Hannibal regard him for a moment, his lips pressed together just a bit more tightly than usual – disapproval, probably, or perhaps disappointment.

“I had hoped not to make a habit out of ending our sessions like that.” Disappointment. But was it genuine, or simply a veil? Perhaps he was merely tossing up another obstacle to watch Will scramble over. Will chewed at the inside of his lip.

“I want you, Hannibal.” He murmured, quietly and morosely, as though it was some solemn confession he wished he didn't have to make.

“I know.” Hannibal answered, with a promising shift from disappointment to resignation. For a few seconds he was silent, regarding Will as one might regard their opponent in a fight, trying to anticipate his next move.

He would probably be right. But that didn't really matter.

Hannibal didn't speak. He rocked his weight forward and stood up from his chair.

No sooner was he on his feet than Will had lurched into his arms, wrapping himself around Hannibal and letting his hands scale the man's back, climbing smoothly up the silky face of his suit jacket while he wished he could feel those muscles more clearly. Catlike, almost, in their lean strength – not obvious at a glance, but always rippling just beneath his skin, always ready to move at a moment's notice. As his palms came to glide over Hannibal's shoulders and towards his collar, Will mouthed at Hannibal's lips in supplication, pleading to be kissed back.

Hannibal's hands alighted on his ribs, and Will gave an impatient little wriggle of victory. He shoved his tongue against the stoic wall of Hannibal's teeth in the hopes that he would open his mouth. At this, Will heard him chuckle – just faintly, though, only at the very bottom of his throat – and he did as Will was begging him to. This time there was no gesture of Will's joy in his achievement; he just let himself go half-limp against his psychiatrist and put all his focus on their kiss. It was deep and warm and thoughtless, the kind of kiss that only occurred for the sake of stoking arousal. Will also considered this to be a good sign, but that quickly started to make him impatient.

He tore himself off of Hannibal and locked eyes with him. Hannibal gave him nothing.

“Why not?” Will grunted indignantly.

“Did I say no?”

Bastard. Will voiced his irritation with a huff of breath from his nostrils, forcing a smile to accompany it.

“Well, is that a yes?” He countered, scarcely bothering to make his demand sound playful. Regardless of how light Will did or did not manage to make it sound, Hannibal still very much noticed how sharp his words were.

“Feisty tonight.” He remarked. That was a threat. “Do you always get like this...when you're horny?” Hannibal took great delight in leaving deliberate pauses in the middle of his phrases just to make sure the other person was listening. The unexpected break in speech would never fail to reel their attention back in.

“Not always.” Will said softly. Lowering his voice was a form of cowering, of showing Hannibal that he was aware that he had misbehaved.

Not that Hannibal wouldn't still punish him, of course.

“Don't make demands of me.” Hannibal ordered. “Please.” He was using polite language, but his words were stiff and short and pierced the air like arrows whistling past Will's temples. Will was still holding onto him, but loosely now, anticipating that Hannibal would soon move to enforce his rules physically.

“Alright. Sorry.” Will muttered, coyly averting his eyes. That was all but begging for a physical reprimand. Hannibal obliged him by – in one fluid motion that took no longer than a heartbeat – jerking his hand up to the back of Will's head and gripping a palmful of hair by its very roots, pulling Will's head back in order to force him into eye contact while at the same time inflicting a delicious little burst of pain.

“Sorry...?” Hannibal growled. That rough, tight voice he used when he was angry made Will's cock jump in its confines, heat throbbing up through his core from the base of his spine.

“Sorry, _sir_.” Will repeated. Hannibal's eyes glittered like polished knives in a glass case. Perfect, pristine, and dangerous.

“Good man.” And, with that, he slowly let go of Will's hair.

Hannibal didn't seem have a taste for _'good boy'_; in his mind, it must not have been a fitting enough treat for good behavior. Too infantilizing, perhaps, or too cliché. Regardless of what it was, Will was always _'good man'_ when he did what Hannibal wanted him to, and he drank in every utterance of those two words with an immense amount of relish.

Hannibal turned his eyes down to unbutton his suit jacket, brushing Will's arms off of him. “This office wasn't designed with lovemaking in mind, you know.” He stated, his tone so flat and unreadable that Will was left completely lost as to how to respond to him.

“Isn't that what makes it fun?” Will suggested, unable to resist the twitch tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Most certainly.” Was Hannibal's answer. Will watched him shed the outermost layer of his suit like he was metamorphosing into some other creature, as if something else was bursting forth through the fragile skin that was Hannibal. It was mesmerizing, to watch him become so different in such a short span of time, but the change was not complete just yet. “I think tonight I would like you up against the desk, if you would oblige me.” Hannibal murmured, watching Will watch him as he rolled his cuffed sleeves up his arms. They stopped just shy of his elbows. “I've something special in mind.”

Now, _now_ he was changed. It was astonishing how little his appearance had to be altered in relative terms for him to seem completely different. He was so austere, so committed to his regal dignity in absolutely every form, that the version of Hannibal with his jacket off and the sleeves of his undershirt haphazardly bunched up against his elbows looked downright _lewd_. So luridly, exhilaratingly _savage_. A patient wolf indeed.

Will was so fixated on this lascivious change in appearance that he nearly forgot that Hannibal had made a request of him. He answered it dutifully with, “I like the sound of that.” - spoken so softly he felt like no noise was coming out of his mouth. Hannibal must've heard it, though, because he smiled. As much as he ever smiled, at least. Will turned sharply and strode over to the handsome desk that stood as the permanent centerpiece of Hannibal's lavish office. Hannibal followed right at his heel and was pressed against Will's back the moment they arrived. His hands roamed up and down Will's body, not yet stimulating him so much as just casually exploring, wondering where to start. He felt Hannibal nuzzle his hair, and immediately expected him to latch onto the back or side of his neck. Those were some of Hannibal's favorite spots; he'd always end up returning there, to kiss or lick or bite or inhale the spicy smell of the sweat that ran down from his hair.

But not just yet, apparently. Hannibal nudged his jaw against Will's, urging him to turn his head back and kiss him again. Will gladly did so, their lips dancing together differently this time. It was a staccato of brief kisses, yet with each one so full of longing and loathe to end that it somehow left them both surprised that they had parted. It was Will tugging at his partner's lips as though trying to drag Hannibal with him, despite the fact that they were already just about as close as they could get.

Hannibal rubbed Will's thighs tenderly, applying just a little more pressure now to indicate that his previous curt examination was over. A soft-edged inarticulate grunt encouraged him, and it took only a few moments for Hannibal's hands to move up to Will's ass, massaging it softly and sensually. And, as Will had perfectly anticipated, Hannibal's mouth finally landed on the back of his neck. He kissed warmly at the sensitive skin stretched tight over Will's spine, but did not engage with his teeth just yet, and barely even involved his tongue. It seemed to be, more than anything, simply a subtle distraction.

Hannibal's deft hands eased their way up even further, rolling Will's shirt up from the bottom. Will offered no sign of protest; he remained placid even as Hannibal splayed his fingers and let them creep around to the front side of Will's body, lingering over his groin for a moment before unbuttoning his jeans and very slowly unzipping them. A minute sigh of relief fluttered past Will's lips, as his cock was already starting to get stiff and he was glad to have it unrestrained. Hannibal slid his hands into the open front of Will's jeans, one of them stroking up and down the length of his shaft while the other grasped for his balls, pleasuring them by kneading them gently.

“So hard for me already.” Hannibal noted. “Are we eager tonight?” Will only sighed gently and shifted his weight back, trying to grind against Hannibal in the same turn he was being pleasured. “I'll take that as a yes.” He heard billowing in from behind him, with that highly subtle intonation that indicated Hannibal was teasing him; he didn't do that often, and even when he did it was uniquely hard to tell, but Will had learned what to look for. Hannibal continued to grope him through his shorts, his dominant hand alternating between stroking Will's shaft along its length and, in short spurts, pinching the head between his thumb and forefinger and vigorously rubbing the underside. Short, muted moans drifted between puffs of Will's breath as he felt that aggressive friction against one of the most sensitive parts of his entire body, then tapered off into even softer gasps of longing when it ceased.

Once or twice Hannibal accompanied his potent stimulation of the tip of Will's member by tightening his grip on Will's sac or tugging downwards on it just enough to make Will whimper in the back of his throat. Hannibal mouthed the back and sides of Will's neck erratically, but didn't seem quite as invested when Will hadn't worked up a sweat yet. Soon enough, Hannibal started to feel a minuscule wet spot seeping through Will's underwear when his fingers made their agile dance towards the end of his cock. He pressed hard against that spot and felt it grow even wetter as the soft fabric devoured another drop of precum. A flicker of satisfaction danced through Hannibal's core for a moment, which he expressed to his partner by nosing at the dark curls of hair that hung over the back of Will's neck and breathing a low grunt of contentment onto his skin.

Will moved immediately, leaning his neck back and pushing Hannibal out of the way. Hannibal anticipated him, and was more than ready when Will twisted his head back and sought his lips for another kiss. It was not a gentle kiss this time – Will almost immediately strove to invade his partner's mouth with a twisting, seeking tongue, which Hannibal thankfully allowed him. The only cost was having his lips scraped by Hannibal's teeth when he deepened the kiss back, and Will did not seem to mind this in the least. This kiss was a message, or more accurately an augmentation of the message which was already being sent by the growing wetness and needy twitching of his cock. He was done with foreplay, and he wanted to make sure Hannibal knew that.

Well then, he would get what he was asking for. Hannibal ended the kiss prematurely with another one of his rare smiles, silently telling Will that he understood what was wanted of him.

“Bend over.”

That command seared Will to the bone. Hannibal followed it up by tapping the side of Will's thigh twice, fingertips striking first and the rest of their length following gracefully.

“I want to have a taste.” Hannibal explained shortly. Will wasn't sure exactly what it was Hannibal wanted a taste of, but nonetheless he slowly leaned forward and laid his body over the desk as he'd been instructed to.

“Taste of what?” Will grunted, shuffling his weight in order to spread his legs.

“You will see.” Was the only answer he got – and, based on the tone of Hannibal's voice, was the only answer he was _going_ to get. Yet, thankfully, Hannibal didn't seem to have any desire for delay, as he immediately set about peeling Will's underwear down and fully freeing his sex. Will couldn't help but moan in anticipation at this sensation, in response to which he heard Hannibal chuckle. “That's what I like to hear.” He declared, in such a dark, lurid voice that Will nearly shivered. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to indulge myself for a moment.” As he spoke, Hannibal gracefully lowered himself to his knees.

“Be my guest.” Will murmured, though knowing very well that Hannibal would do so regardless of whether or not Will invited him. Hannibal ran his smooth hands up and down Will's legs, velvety palms caressing their length, before quickly leaning in close enough that Will could feel Hannibal's hot breath on his perineum. As much as he wanted this to be followed by the stroke of Hannibal's tongue over his skin, if Hannibal was going to 'indulge himself', then it was rather doubtful that that was what he was going to do. Rather, Will wasn't surprised at all when he heard soft sniffling noises coming from the man exploring his nether regions; it wasn't the first time Hannibal had smelled him, or even the first time he'd smelled _those parts_ of him.

He definitely seemed to get some sort of sexual satisfaction from inhaling the various scents that clung to Will's body, and though it was peculiar to him, Will was willing enough to allow it. Hannibal took both Will's balls in one hand and shifted them back as his mouth sought the spot at the very base of Will's cock where the thin skin of his sac connected with it. While his mouth was fastened there, sucking and nibbling, his nose nestled itself against the thicket of tight ringlets that grew around the root of Will's shaft. He was in no way trying to hide what he was doing; without shame he was sniffing deeply and more than audibly, drawing in the odor of however many layers of stale sweat there were that hadn't been worked all the way out of that little catch of hair. Will sighed happily at this to let Hannibal know that he was enjoying it.

However, Hannibal was not the type to linger on any one thing for all too long. He was not yet done with his olfactory survey of Will's intimate areas, and that was clearly important to him. He released the powerful grip of his mouth at the base of Will's shaft and slid his tongue up its length until he tasted the fresh trickle of precum leaking from the tip. He tongued it for a moment and then sniffed again, now having almost shoved one of his shoulders through Will's legs. A soft gasp of pleasure drifted from Hannibal's mouth and danced fleetingly across Will's sex. This filled only a moment of pause before he went back to sniffing and teasingly lapping at the head of his shaft.

Will had a scintillating feeling that this wasn't the 'taste' Hannibal had been talking about – though as of yet he had nothing to prove that that feeling wasn't anything more than wishful thinking. It felt good, certainly, but would it be the main course? Will would just have to wait and see; trying to force any subject with Hannibal was a foregone conclusion. Even encouragement needed to be subtle.

“Taste good?” Will hummed, idly drumming his fingers against the edge of the desk.

“Wonderful.” Hannibal answered promptly. “Patience is a virtue, my dear.” Not quite subtle enough, it seemed, but at the very least this time Hannibal sounded more affectionate than he did annoyed. That didn't promise punishment, but it certainly didn't promise haste either. “You should let yourself savor this.” Hannibal whispered, slowly and emphatically, making sure his mouth was more than close enough for Will to feel each word strike his cock as a wisp of warm breath. “It's only natural for you to want more, of course. On a simplistic, primal level, the ultimate goal of sex is merely to spend yourself.” Hannibal cleared his throat and drew back, his voice abruptly jumping to a more detached, clinical tone. He was the only person on Earth who Will could imagine still sounding sexy when he talked like that. “But you and I are beasts who rut for pleasure, Will; we have every reason to make it last.”

Those words managed to work themselves into Will's very spine. They skittered their way clear up to the spot right between his shoulder blades and then shattered into a thousand pieces, causing Will to shudder in excitement as they dispersed. Before he could muster any conscious response, Hannibal's hands crept back up his thighs in order to spread him, and Will's shiver of anticipation circled back in for a second hit. “But I will give you what we both want.” Hannibal conceded at last. For but one fleeting moment, the thought was in Will's mind that he had actually coerced Hannibal all the way to giving him what he now so desperately yearned for.

“If you will entertain me for just a few more moments.”

And there it was. Hannibal planted his tongue at the very base of Will's sac and licked a wet streak upwards across his taint, stopping just barely short of his rim and causing Will to groan in dissatisfaction. Hannibal ignored him. He was sniffing again, at the same time letting his mouth lay desirous kisses on that tender space just below his opening. Of course – a taste of fine wine wasn't complete without the bouquet, after all.

“Just can't resist, can you?” Will mused, closing his eyes for a moment as he couldn't help but smile at how delectably salacious it was. Hannibal, a man with a nose like a goddamn bloodhound, so willingly and even zealously inhaling whatever undoubtedly unpleasant aroma he could draw from that treasured, malodorous spot on his partner's body. Even though he was clean, Will knew Hannibal's nose was more than keen enough to cut through that veneer. Mundane scents affected him so strongly that Will could only imagine what experience he got from pushing himself so close to Will's hole, or the gently leaking head of his cock, or that crescent-shaped trap of hair wrapped around the base of his sex, and forcing himself to get the scent. It must have rebuked his olfactory sense with such force that he could feel it on a physical level, burning all the way down into his lungs and leaving even his tongue stinging.

But he enjoyed it. He enjoyed it so much his lips released a weak moan onto Will's perineum, a sound so meek and human it was hard to imagine that the man who'd uttered it was really Hannibal Lecter. Did he genuinely revel that greatly in punishing himself with this kind of sensory repulsion, or did his inhuman sense of smell simply allow him to unlock some dimension to such unpleasant odors that other people would never be able to find? Did these graceless, fetid bodily perfumes reveal some pleasing underside when filtered through senses like his? Perhaps only to the banal masses would such scents be considered solely and undeniably offensive; to a unique few they unfolded into something much more complex, and much more amiable. When viewed from above, a deck of cards may look much the same as a single card, but just one furtive little push could reveal how much more lay beneath that coy disguise.

Hannibal swiped his tongue back and forth rapidly right over the spot on Will's perineum he'd only been mouthing idly thus far, immediately ripping him from his playful daydream. Will let out a faint mewl of longing at being reminded of his eminent desire, which Hannibal answered with a self-satisfied sigh. He drew in a few more deep breaths, nuzzling his face somehow even closer to his partner's opening, before exhaling the air from seemingly every sharp sniff he'd uttered on another, much longer, wavering sigh. “Thank you, Will.” He murmured, again drawing back and leaving Will excruciatingly deprived of stimulation. “Good man.” That was his real gesture of gratitude.

Hannibal managed to spread Will even further, then pressed his tongue out flat and dragged it across Will's hole, eliciting a vibrant, ecstatic moan from the man. “_Yes_, Hannibal.” He panted. Hannibal gave him another slow lick with his tongue flattened out to its broadest. Will whimpered again. “Please...ahh, more.” His blood was boiling now; he'd been waiting with bated breath for Hannibal to commence with this ever since he'd first sowed the idea in his mind, and he wasn't about to stay quiet now that that moment had at long last arrived.

“Be patient, still.” Hannibal murmured, and he pushed against Will's rim with the tip of his tongue, the very first step to coaxing him open. “And relax for me.”

That was perhaps the most daunting request Hannibal had ever given him. His entire body felt electric from the excitement crackling between his nerves and the last thing he wanted to do was _relax_; he wanted to arch his back and grab Hannibal by his silky caramel hair and force him to lick harder and deeper until he made him come.

But, as he knew, trying to force Hannibal to do anything was a wildly vain effort. He couldn't _make_ the man do anything, and that left him with limited options: essentially, either obey Hannibal or be denied his pleasure.

“I can't open you if you don't relax.” An almost psychic warning came from Hannibal as he tested the waters and still found them shivering and tensing at the touch of his tongue. Will freed a meek whine from the back of his throat and let a ripple sweep his body from head to toe as his muscles went slack. He tried to stay lax and easy even when he felt Hannibal's deft tongue start to pry at his opening again, flicking and twisting around the rim until it had withdrawn enough for his stiffened tongue to penetrate. Regardless of how hard he'd willed himself not to, Will couldn't help but moan out loud when Hannibal's tongue pushed into him. Hannibal's only remark was a soft purr of victory, which he shoved into Will's hole just as eagerly as his tongue.

Will bit down on his lower lip to keep the vibration of Hannibal's voice from making him cry out again, though he knew very well he'd only be able to stifle himself for so long. Hannibal sure as _hell _wasn't teasing him anymore; the bastard even went so far as to clasp his mouth around Will's opening and suck on it at the same time he hammered it with his tongue, at which Will sank his teeth even deeper into his lip and gripped the edge of the table so tightly he felt it dig into his palms. That pressure on his hands triggered the abrupt realization that there was another, perfect place for at least one of them to be right now – provided, of course, Hannibal allowed it.

Trying not to give him a chance to protest, Will jerked a hand under his body and immediately wrapped it around his cock. He scarcely got two furious strokes in before exactly what he had expected happened: Hannibal seized Will's arm by the wrist and stopped everything at once. “Will,” He said firmly. “Please. Don't touch.”

Of _course_ Hannibal didn't want him to touch; if he had desired any such thing, he probably would've already been stroking Will himself. It hadn't even really been worth the shot, but Will, the determined soul he was, had made the attempt anyway. Now, he reluctantly let go of his shaft – at which Hannibal in turn released his hold on Will's wrist – and brought his hand back up to its original place at the edge of the desk.

“Good man.” Hannibal sighed, the terse tone of his speech contrasting with the superficially praising nature of his words. One idle beat of unspoken warning passed afterwards, but was thankfully the only pause Hannibal gave before immediately returning to rapid, ardent thrusts of his tongue. This time Will didn't even remember to _try_ not to wail pathetically and was instantly reduced to feebly gasping Hannibal's name.

To no surprise of Will's, Hannibal appreciated this. He hummed in contentment and once again let Will feel every minute movement his body gave in conjunction with that sound, even more glad to feel his partner's entrance quiver when he moaned against it. Hannibal twisted his tongue in a few swift circles around the rim and then _ever_ so gently let his teeth rub against its outermost edge. That pushed Will to sounding veritably agonized, letting out a soft, surprised grunt like he'd been stricken followed by a warbling plaint. Will couldn't see Hannibal at all, yet he _felt_ the man grin, his lips curling away from where he'd latched them around Will's hole. “Mmh, that's right.” Hannibal's voice poured forth from his mouth as an enchantingly low, uneven _rumble_; he sounded perfectly like the first distant call of thunder that preceded a storm, yet somehow in the form of intelligible speech. “Sing like that for me.”

That voice could've made Will keen to do damn near _anything_. He only barely managed to catch himself before almost instinctively obliging, with the sole thing feeding him such willpower being the notion that he could possibly bargain with Hannibal by withholding what he wanted. After all, despite how viscerally pleasurable it had been to let Hannibal eat him out like this, Will couldn't help but want more. He didn't want Hannibal to stop – not in the least – but he needed _more_, needed something that could really get him off. So, he couldn't let go of all the embarrassing sounds threatening to jump from his throat just yet; if Hannibal wanted him to sing, then he had to work for it.

Hannibal was more than likely aware of what game Will was trying to play. Or, if not, he had at the very least noticed how much Will liked his teeth, as he was fairly consistently chewing on him now – and far less timidly, as well. His teeth were scraping hard enough to brush within an inch of hurting, and the more he did so the more tender that flesh became, and it grew ever harder for Will to endure without making a sound. It all made Will want to cave in and beg and whine more than anything; he had to find some way to distract himself, even if only temporarily, lest he lose the very battle of resilience he had started.

“Do I – _ah_, do I taste good?” He stammered, a transparent and repetitive query that wouldn't fetter Hannibal in the slightest. Though, fortunately, that wasn't it's purpose.

“Oh, you taste _perfect_, Will.” Hannibal answered him emphatically. “You're the sweetest -” A deliberate pause, during which Hannibal drew his tongue excessively slowly over that sensitive little circle of muscle he'd been tormenting. “_Richest_ thing ever to grace my palette.”

Will's attempt to occupy himself through speech appeared to have backfired entirely. He clenched his teeth around a hungering groan, scarcely even noticing that Hannibal had temporarily withdrawn. No sooner had he thought to wonder about it than such wondering was terminated by Hannibal's forefinger readily sliding its way into his opening. It had been left slick and open enough by his tongue that he faced little resistance, and no other part of Will protested as Hannibal immediately sought out that one perfect spot, that tiny bouquet of nerves that made Will feel volts of pleasure shoot clear down to his fingertips almost the instant he felt pressure against it. The sensation caused him to sway on his feet, and he moaned pathetically loudly, tightening around Hannibal as though clinging to him.

“Does this feel better?” Hannibal purred, with a few short huffs of breath approximating a chuckle. With that, he leaned his face back in and swirled his tongue around the rim while he continued rubbing at the sweet spot. Will groaned loudly in response and his spine bowed as he desperately pushed back against Hannibal. “Use your words, darling.” Hannibal requested.

“Y-yes, _fuck_.” Will stuttered. “It feels so good.” His weak, breathy voice was brilliantly pleasant to the ears. Hannibal encouraged it gladly by sucking the lower curve of his rim between his lips, and was satisfied to succeed, hearing a timorous whimper race from Will's lungs.

Will's cock was hard and heavy between his legs, pulse pounding through it violently in rhythm with Hannibal tapping carelessly at his prostate. He was aching beyond aching to touch himself, and curled his fingers and fitfully shoved his palms against Hannibal's desk in response to his own desperation. Then Hannibal relented, letting Will have one brief, blissful moment of reprieve while he wetted his finger down again, before going back in with just as much ferocity. If anything, that pause only served to worsen Will's searing need to touch himself; he struggled to even think about anything else, hands writhing aimlessly as they sought frantically for anything to occupy them other than stroking his shaft.

“Be still.” Hannibal ordered. Apparently, Will's restlessness had quickly channeled its way through his whole body, enough so for Hannibal to have noticed already. “Stay relaxed, please.” The charming thrum of Hannibal's low, melodic voice struck Will on an almost physical level. It reverberated its way through every muscle in his body, causing some of them to quiver and relax, but was quickly counteracted by the roiling ardor Hannibal was continuously stoking with those sporadic bursts of pressure against his sweet spot.

“Hannibal...” He panted, his voice gracelessly frail, stumbling and falling on its way out his mouth like a foal trying to stand on its feet for the first time. “I want to...t-to touch.” Will felt pitiful, certainly, having to beg for permission to pleasure himself like this, but that sense of degradation was...appealing, in its own way.

“Resist that temptation.” Hannibal shot him down flatly, not even bothering to offer him any sweet little words of affection or reassurance. And, rather than moving to lessen the sensation that was threatening to overwhelm Will, he made to _amplify_ it, drawing circles over Will's entrance with his tongue as well as he could around the base of his index finger.

“I c-can't.” Will squeaked miserably, somehow managing to hunch his shoulders up even further. “I need to touch, Hannibal, I have to...”

“You don't.” Wondrously easy for him to say. His counter-argument from Will was a sharp, high-pitched gasp. Seemingly endeared by this, Hannibal stroked Will's thigh softly with his free hand. “You will be fine, Will.” He injected much more concern into his words this time, but counteracted that quite effectively by continuing to lap softly at his rim. “You can come just like this. I will take care of you.” Hannibal murmured, the warm air from his lips fluttering over Will's opening and prompting him to shiver and tighten even more.

Despite finally having tasted that hint of reassurance he'd longed for, Will nonetheless found himself sending a trembling hand back, traveling down his body before striking the other edge of the desk with an audible _thump_ as he forced it down. “_Will_.” Hannibal hissed in retaliation. Will could _feel_ Hannibal's eyes burning behind him; he had been pushed just far enough that he was now somewhat genuinely irritated. “Do _not_.” He ordered, in a tone that allowed no argument. “I will tie your hands if I must. Don't touch yourself, and don't try to.”

“God, then just _do it_.” Will panted, his body hot from head to toe with a sort of carnal rage that had overpowered the judgment which would've normally told him not to antagonize Hannibal much more than he already had. “Just tie my fucking hands then. I can't...G-God, I can't...” Then he lost his voice again, the clarity of fury ebbing back into weakness.

Hannibal sighed through his nostrils and slowly eased his finger out; Will gasped deeply at the sensation of being empty again, yet it was not as euphoric to be relieved as he'd imagined. In actuality his body was softly aching at the absence of that persistent pleasure, that slow-burning fire creeping up his core. Now he had _nothing_ to maintain his stimulation, and some selfish urge was crying out for its return. He only narrowly noticed Hannibal rising to his feet, but acutely noticed the presence of Hannibal's hand running up his back, following the bow of his spine up to his shoulders and letting his fingertips brush the back of Will's neck. Will attempted to lean back into this, to coax Hannibal into touching his neck a little more, but Hannibal was far too good at anticipating him to fall for it.

The swift, slick sound of fabric sliding against fabric snapped into Will's ears, immediately followed by a few stark footsteps as Hannibal circled around to the front of his desk. “Give me your wrists.” Hannibal commanded, in a stern, callous voice that made Will's cock leap at its mere sound. Will obeyed eagerly, thrusting his arms forward with his pale wrists pressed together in the hopes of appeasing Hannibal. If he had succeeded, Hannibal certainly didn't make it known; he took both of Will's forearms in a powerful grip and guided them to the point where he had one hand on either side of the closed arm of Hannibal's desk chair. He didn't wait a beat before letting his tie lunge for Will's wrists and coil around them like a snake, so swiftly and deftly it felt far more like a living thing than a mere length of fabric being led by human hands.

If nothing else, the man was damn good with knots. That shimmering paisley tie that had been so inert around Hannibal's neck when Will had been facing him was now threatening to cut off any and all blood circulation between Will's hands and the rest of his body. Yet he didn't dare complain about that – not right now, at least. If Hannibal found himself further discontented by something like Will trying to plea for him to loosen that tie, then he could certainly find a way to make it tighter.

One of Hannibal's hands carded its way through Will's loose curls, catching a thin layer of sweat on its way through. Will took this as a gesture of appreciation, and cautiously lifted his eyes to meet Hannibal's. Hannibal offered him a stiff, stunted little smile, which was not necessarily a positive sign. He did promptly return to the other side of the table once Will had received his smile, but he did not lower himself back to his knees once he'd arrived there. Rather, he leaned over and ran his fingers through Will's hair again. Reasoning that he perhaps wanted the same response this time, Will craned his neck back to look at Hannibal just as he'd done a moment ago.

“Are you going to behave for me now?” Hannibal requested, with an indecipherable tilt of his head. He curled his fingers slightly and scratched Will's scalp, tenderly enough that it was affectionate rather than domineering.

“Mm-hmm.” Will murmured, putting on his most pitiful look.

Hannibal's other hand hit his ass with a smack so loud and sharp it sounded like the crack of a whip. The sound was followed immediately by a split second of surprising numbness which rapidly dissolved into an absolutely searing pain. Will, having not expected it in the least, flinched so hard he nearly lurched off the ground entirely and yelped at the top of his lungs.

“Are you _going_ to _behave_?” Hannibal growled, gritting and un-gritting his teeth his he spoke sternly and explicitly.

“Yes – yes, I will.” Will rushed to give Hannibal what he assumed was the answer he craved, but said assumption was apparently misguided. The words had barely left Will's lips by the time an equally forceful spank landed on the other cheek, once again forcing a pitchy squeal from his throat.

“Yes _what?_” Hannibal spat, now grasping a handful of Will's hair and yanking his head up, urging him to turn his eyes back in Hannibal's direction.

“Yes, _sir_.” Will panted, melting under the force of that deliciously rigid and inimical voice even before he'd made contact with Hannibal's burning, baleful gaze. “I will be good, _sir_.” Will reiterated, pleadingly now, though internally he wasn't yet sure whether or not he genuinely wanted Hannibal to stop.

“That's right.” Hannibal sighed his words as though he'd been holding his breath waiting for Will to answer him. He slowly let his fingers unfold and release their tense grasp on Will's hair, soothing him by petting his head a few times. “That's right. Good man.” He continued to mutter softly; his other hand did not move to spank Will again, but was still groping his ass rather aggressively, kneading and pushing his nails into flesh that was still echoing with pain from how hard it'd been stricken mere moments before. Will didn't shy away, but allowed himself to narrowly utter a few muted grunts of discomfort.

Hannibal relented, and with only that much warning he sank back to his knees and spread Will out to lick over his hole again, purring and purring when he heard Will howl for him. The tip of his tongue ran rapid laps around Will's rim, pushing him even further open, and Will panted within an inch of hyperventilating for a moment. A spasm hit his hands and his fists jerked open, but his fingers were hopelessly grasping at nothing; it was no more than a pointless lurch for some semblance of control he had no real ability to recover. Then that deft tongue thrust inside him again and Will's hands immediately bunched back up into tight fists, nails digging into his own palms in the absence of anything else to grip onto. He pulled the tie against the arm of the chair, despite being fully aware that there was no way either would give – it was once again merely a thoughtless reflex from some primal recess of his mind, floundering without any way to affect what was happening to his own body.

Will reflexively recoiled slightly, and Hannibal responded by quickening his pace until his tongue was darting in and out just about as fast as he could manage. Will curled his neck and whined out a raspy, “_God_, Hannibal.” – which, if nothing else, coaxed Hannibal into switching tactics. His tongue withdrew in an instant, and he sucked at Will's opening while shifting his mouth up and down so that first his lower and then his upper incisors grazed part of the rim, gnawing almost as if he were actually trying to _eat_ Will's ass. He maintained that pattern in a lapsing rhythm for a few frenetic seconds, generating some wonderfully visceral slurping sounds as he did so (interjected with an actual _growl_ at one point), before very abruptly stopping. Will groaned, again sounding miserably weak and despairing, and his hole blinked at the sudden absence of stimulation.

Even though that deprivation did, in grander terms, last only for an infinitesimal sliver of time, that was still far too long from Will's perspective. Considering that Hannibal had retracted one of his hands from its position keeping Will's cheeks parted for him, Will didn't need to look behind him to feel sure that Hannibal had once again paused to slick down one or more of his fingers in preparation to penetrate him, yet he still waited with bated breath. After all, there was no way of knowing how much Hannibal was going to want to tease him before he actually went through with it.

Apparently, the answer to that was _'not at all'_, because Hannibal shoved two of his fingers in with scarcely even a second spent testing to be sure they'd both fit. “Mmh, opened up so nice for me.” Hannibal hummed as though in praise. Will lost his breath as soon as he felt Hannibal push down on his prostate once more, and struggled trying to catch it again through a flood of impulses urging him to use every scrap of air that entered his lungs as fuel for pleasure sounds. Hannibal, of course, did not aid him whatsoever; not a heartbeat later than that glorious friction started up against his sweet spot again, Hannibal's tongue was back, lapping longingly at the rim of his partner's opening. This time, he seemed anxious to see whether or not he could manage to work it in alongside his fingers – which he would certainly manage eventually, but Will was squeezing him hard enough to keep him from doing so just yet.

Hannibal was so fluent in the language of Will's body – even in its most subtle, nearly imperceptible tones – that he could tell precisely when it was that Will started to feel _close_, and not a moment sooner than he'd detected that sensation, he eased up just long enough for Will to lose it. It was near to astonishing how exactly Hannibal knew when to stop and how much to pull back in order to see Will's anticipation of his orgasm plummet back down to nothing, though Will's amazement at his prowess didn't serve as any consolation for that frustrating snap of loss. Will clenched his fists and swung his weight back, trying vainly to get Hannibal's fingers back onto his sweet spot and whining audibly when Hannibal, as he would've expected, denied him.

“Tell me what you want, Will.”

He could hear Hannibal's lips pulling into a broad, arrogant grin as he spoke. Will heaved a deep, raspy breath, trying to keep himself from breaking into a fit of violent swearing (which would've likely been entirely unproductive anyway). He managed to dissipate that tension enough not to snap at Hannibal, despite how much he wanted to, and substituted the harsh string of rude words hovering under his tongue with a lyrical mewl of, “Want you to let me come.”

Hannibal lavished his partner's opening with lazy, aimless strokes of his tongue, being uncharacteristically indeliberate for someone who was so exceptionally methodical even in regards to sex. The only intent Will could've interpreted from this was merely that of stoking the pining anger Will was still attempting to repress – and, when all things were considered, that was not an unlikely goal for Hannibal to have. Pulling away with something like a raspy chuckle, Hannibal curled his nails into the pliable flesh of Will's ass and hissed, “Now – like you mean it.”

In that moment, Will was glad Hannibal couldn't see his face, lest the man happen to glimpse the unwanted grin pulling on the corners of Will's mouth. Things surely would've become much worse if Hannibal had caught even the faintest genuine hint of Will enjoying the way Hannibal teased him mercilessly. He would be fine knowing without _knowing_ how Will reveled in Hannibal breaking him down and making him beg, commanding control over him and making sure Will was treated to the most visceral reminders possible of his helplessness. Will couldn't help but hate the way it turned him on, but Hannibal was unerringly good at what he did.

“Come on, Will. Show me how badly you want it.”

To emphasize his point, Hannibal slid both of his fingers just marginally deeper, letting them get that much closer to touching what Will was aching for him to touch.

“Please, Hannibal.” Will panted, striving to sound as charming and breathy as possible. “Please, please let me come.” He twisted his wrists in their bonds and felt a strong thrum of pain start up underneath the tie, bringing him to the swift realization that they were going to hurt for quite a while even after he was untied. And, by the time Hannibal was done with him, they certainly wouldn't be his only sore spot.

Hannibal gave him only the most minimal answer to his pleas, finally allowing his fingertips to graze that sacred pressure point once more now that it had been neglected long enough to have nearly forgotten how ardently it was being stimulated earlier. Will practically melted under Hannibal's touch, his mouth running on without him and stammering out a pathetic, “_Fuck_, yes.” Hannibal praised him with more attention from his tongue – which should have been feeling downright weak from overuse by now, but was showing no signs of such. Will rubbed his face against the chair arm despairingly, feeling sweat tickle the back of his neck, more than ready to just let himself go slack and relinquish every ounce of control to Hannibal but still painfully aware that he would be expected to beg much more before Hannibal permitted anything like that.

“Tell me, Will.” Hannibal muttered, teasingly sliding his fingers halfway out before shoving them back in. “Tell me what you want.” He repeated, with an expectant lilt in his voice.

“Fuck me.” Will answered him in the form of an impassioned whine. He sounded so fantastically, delectably vehement in his longing; his voice had been beaten down into nothing more than a feeble, high-pitched, wavering simulacrum of itself. It inspired a flash of something close to ecstasy in Hannibal, chased by a sense of greed he possessed no ambition to resist. And, in obeying his impulses, he also ended up obeying Will's request of him – though he was careful to keep the force of those rhythmic taps against his prostate just narrowly hard enough to be satisfying. Will wasn't done begging; he wouldn't be done until Hannibal's gluttony for his pleas was satiated. Will tightened around him and strove to throw his weight back even further, though by now the tie around his wrists was pulling against the arm of the chair again. “Ohh – harder, _harder_.” Will gasped through trembling lips.

At the limits of his bonds, he couldn't move back towards Hannibal any more than he already had. A virulent reminder of his position – helpless to Hannibal's whims, every moment of his own pleasure allowed at Hannibal's mercy, and there was no other way they would've had it. Hannibal licked his opening adoringly and Will yowled for him, one of his legs kicking faintly and scuffing his foot against the floor. “Easy, easy.” Hannibal soothed him, voice like honey regardless of how horribly he was tormenting Will. “There's a good man.” And he thrust his tongue hard at Will's rim beneath his fingers, not relenting until it slithered in under them. The string of mixed profanities and random unconnected syllables that sprang from Will's mouth at this actually brought Hannibal to laughter.

And so Will continued, wailing his pleas like he'd suffered through torture, begging to come, feeling the utter delight it brought Hannibal in the form of nails pressed into his thigh and tiny, tiny little hums of satisfaction rippling against his opening. Hannibal _adored_ this – forcing Will to beg until his throat ached, all the while letting the man know just how delectable he found it. A horrible, _horrible_ sadistic man who wanted to toy with his victims long and slow before he finished them off. He could've shown mercy if he'd just let himself touch Will's cock; he knew it would scarcely take a few short, swift strokes to get him there when combined with everything else, but he was resolutely determined for Will to come untouched. He was getting closer with every passing moment, but somehow still not hitting his climax. It was just building, _building, _boiling in his veins but never spilling over. Will didn't doubt in the least that this was somehow all part of Hannibal's design, that it had been his plan from the start to find a method of continuously bringing Will up without actually letting him finish.

Even Will's begging was breaking down; he could hardly find a word in his brain other than _'please'_ anymore, and all his speech was slurring together and becoming less and less intelligible. In addition to the sweat beading and cascading down his brow, there was water flowing from his eyes – though he couldn't honestly tell whether he was crying or they were simply watering from strain. Hannibal took a break from assailing Will's opening with his tongue to kiss up and down his partner's thigh, softly bubbling words of encouragement. “Good man, good man.” He purred, letting his lips pass tenderly over the spots where his driving nails had damaged Will's skin. “Good man. Almost there, love. Just a little more.” Those gentle words brought Will scant comfort; he groaned wordlessly and struggled to keep spit from rolling over his bottom lip and down towards his chin.

When his orgasm finally hit him, it struck all at once, flooding Will so suddenly he barely had time to shout, “Hannibal - _fuck_, I'm coming!” before he was purely overwhelmed. He curled his toes into the soles of his shoes and bowed his back as it took him over – blinding white, numbingly hot, shapeless and formless, buzzing its way through every last nerve and pulsing in time with his heartbeat. Hannibal, ever quick to react, reflexively held his palm in front of Will's sex, moving it slightly in rhythm with the erratic thrusts of his hips; naturally, he couldn't have the man come all over his fine carpet, especially considering he'd already been slowly leaking precum onto it for a while. Yet he was still careful not to let his hand _touch_ Will's cock, even though he was already coming. Hannibal sighed in enjoyment at the feeling of Will tightening up around his fingers, as hard as his body would let him, while he came – pouring himself out into Hannibal's other hand, his seed pooling in the lines of his palm, wonderfully thick and hot to the touch. He regaled Will with praise and pushed him through his climax by rubbing vigorously against his sweet spot, euphoric at the sound of Will crying out strings of shapeless noises interjected at random with some mixture of _'Hannibal - God - fuck'_.

Will wound down with his howls fading to whimpers and his contractions quickly slowing to nothing more than some faint, exhausted twitches of his muscles. Knowing Will was over-exerted, Hannibal allowed himself to be kind and stopped stimulating his prostate as soon as he could tell that Will was spent, very slowly drawing his fingers out while distracting him with comforting language. “So good. Did so good, Will.” He hummed, lovingly kissing Will's thighs and his butt again. “Such a good man. Took it so well.”

Will sniffled, legs trembling as his knees threatened to buckle underneath him. Collapsing on top of the desk would knock the breath right out of him and undoubtedly be uncomfortable as all hell, but without his hands unbound he didn't have much choice. He tried to shift his weight forward onto his elbows and just fell, his knees caving inwards and his legs sinking, feet sliding against the carpet. With the tie between his wrists already taut against the arm of the chair, Will was essentially forced to stretch his arms out and lay his chest down on the desk as well, putting him in a highly awkward position, but at the very least one he could rest in. Hannibal stroked one of Will's legs with the back of his hand, not commenting on his lack of stability, then rose to his feet with a quiet grunt. “There's my good man.” He purred, strutting back around the desk to get a look at Will's face. His ability to sound so sweet and adoring even after he'd spent all that time torturing Will with the utmost glee was almost unearthly, but right then Will was more than willing to accept it regardless.

“Here, do you want to taste?” Hannibal prompted, offering Will his palm. Will's vision was still somewhat dizzy and starry from the intensity of his climax, but he knew very well what he was being offered. He gladly laid his mouth against his partner's hand and licked his cum from it, encouragement finding him immediately in the form of a satisfied, “Good man.” and another hand passing over his hair. Hannibal didn't allow Will to stop until he was well past sure the man had lapped up every last trace of of cum, reveling in the way he so eagerly devoured it. Will wrapped his lips around two of Hannibal's fingertips and tenderly slid them into his mouth, giving a ginger suckle as they passed over his tongue; at this, Hannibal felt a wave of warmth rise through his body, kindling in his groin before flowing up through his stomach, over his lungs, and then up through his throat, before finally billowing out his mouth in the form of a melodic sigh of pleasure.

Once Will had released his fingers, Hannibal pulled his hand back and praised him again. “Do you like that taste?” He asked at a whisper, with a languid pass of his hand through Will's loose curls, which were now damp with sweat. The urge to lean down and inhale its acrid, saline smell struck him immediately, but he denied it – a better opportunity would present itself.

“I like your taste better.” Will answered softly. Curious, he let his gaze hover over his partner's groin, and found Hannibal quite obviously (but not surprisingly) hard. It was almost a reflexive response for Will to lick his lips as he eyed up Hannibal's huge erection, which was lewdly apparent through his trousers. Yet the man hadn't so much as unfastened his belt – not through all that time spent glutting himself on Will's musk, and not through any of the delightfully long and torrid process of pleasuring Will to his orgasm. Hannibal must have been _aching_, feeling his swollen, neglected cock throb against its stifling constraints, begging to be sated – or even so much as acknowledged. And, in addition, no longer having the convenient distraction of attending to Will must've made it even _harder_ to resist that constant thrum of longing perched just beneath his belt line. What willpower he must have had to ignore himself so stalwartly.

Hannibal pretended not to notice the way Will was unsubtly eyeing his stiffened sex. Rather than engage Will on that subject, he moved to nudge Will's chin up so as to get a better look at his face. After a second of observation, Hannibal drew his handkerchief from where he had tucked it into his pants pocket and pulled a corner up to wipe away the shimmering tear trails that had run down over Will's cheeks. Will silently accepted, closing his eyes so that Hannibal could daub at their wet corners. Once he'd finished with the tear tracks, he swiftly pulled up another corner and set about cleaning off Will's mouth, meticulously catching every errant fleck of saliva that hadn't managed to stay on the inside of his teeth. As this phase drew to a close, Will glimpsed Hannibal smiling down at him with a rather atypical warmth in his eyes – though whether that soft adoration he was showing was meant to be aimed towards Will himself or towards the mere act of being allowed to fuss over him was debatable.

“Here, let me get your brow too.” Hannibal mumbled half to himself, proceeding to brush a few errant wisps of hair back from Will's forehead and subsequently dab at the plentiful sweat that had beaded there. It felt quite nice for his brow to be dried a little, especially now that his body had a chance to cool down while he rested temporarily. Now that Hannibal had cleaned him up, he tilted Will's chin upwards once more in order to assess his work. He must have noticed that he'd missed a spot, because he immediately brought his handkerchief back in to pat the sweat from Will's temples. After that, he seemed satisfied at last; another tiny smile struck his face, glowing at the backs of his eyes as he passively stroked Will's jaw with his thumb. “There's my handsome man.” Hannibal crooned down at Will with his lips still tight in their smile. He sounded positively _saccharine_, this same man who had buried his nails in Will's skin and demanded that he plead and scream until his throat was raw and his eyes teary. Not that Will had never been privy to Hannibal's fawning before, but he'd always found the contrast to be remarkable.

“Thank you.” Will murmured. Hannibal withdrew his hand from the side of Will's face and calmly folded his handkerchief back up into its neat square before returning it to his pocket.

“Do you feel a little better now?” He asked, his hand returning to the side of Will's face as soon as he was done tucking his handkerchief away.

“I'm just fine, Hannibal.” Will assured him in a sweet, grateful voice, offering some reciprocation for Hannibal's affection. His eyes made another quick detour down towards his partner's latent erection, and, still eager to attend to the subject, Will chewed his lip and asked, “What about you?”

Hannibal gave a knowing smirk and a short huff of amusement to signal that he clearly understood what Will was trying to imply. But he did at last allow himself to bring one hand down to crotch level and begin gently rubbing himself, uttering a soft grunt at the feel of his own touch. “I appreciate your concern.” He chuckled, feigning amusement through his discomforting over-arousal. “I simply wanted to make sure you were attended to first.” Still petting the side of Will's face, he took a knee beside the chair and leaned in to give him a tender, covetous kiss. Or, at least, he _attempted_ a tender and covetous kiss, but it quickly deteriorated under the force of that unbecoming primitive desire howling from within him.

Will managed to find something appreciable aspect to Hannibal in virtually every form he took, but there was no shade of Hannibal that could ever truly be as darkly alluring as that phase which scraped the edge of being _wild_. At times, Hannibal would dare to unfurl himself slightly on purpose, to bare his teeth slightly just to inspire that little thrill in Will that came from seeing a glimpse of aggression. Cold, stern domineering had its own wondrous flavor, but it nonetheless remained a tame, restrained element; it suited Hannibal too well to be as gorgeous as that imprudence that slipped through the veil when Hannibal's grip on his calculated, dignified self truly faltered. Most often it was only for a moment or so, one brief flash of unthinking lust or hostility, before Hannibal regained himself, but in that narrow window of time it still managed to inspire a heightening awe in Will. It was so exceptionally rare to see Hannibal get so fired by emotion that he lost his rigid control over his impulses that Will's heart lurched every time he was privy to it.

Hannibal finally seemed to realize that he'd lost himself to his own flooding tide of sexual desire and harshly severed the kiss he'd initiated. For a split second Will got to see him with his hair slipping out of place, his pupils wide from arousal, and his narrow lips hanging open to let him breathe more deeply, before he harshly cleared his throat and gave himself a rudimentary re-grooming in a fitful attempt to hide this part of himself once more. “Can you stand back up for me, love?” He requested. Will answered him through a longing stare.

“Maybe. We'll see, I guess.” He answered with a short grunt of laughter. There was certainly a bit of a struggle to be had in trying to get his legs under him again, but Will didn't have much of a chance to attempt such before Hannibal had already reached across the table to grab him by his hips and lift him up so that he could plant his feet down properly. Before he even managed to thank Hannibal, the man had circled around the desk once more and was again perched tantalizingly behind Will. He ran his lovely smooth hands up and down Will's back, rucking up his shirt to release a little more of that trapped heat. Will uttered nothing more than an indeterminate grunt in reply to this. Hannibal's loving caresses were nice, sure, but Will didn't feel at all like circling back to foreplay, especially when he knew that Hannibal was bursting at his seams.

“Are you gonna fuck me?” He asked, lazily and inarticulately. Hannibal sort of snorted at this, likely feeling somewhat rebuked by Will's lack of grace in asking.

“I fear you might be too overstimulated.” Hannibal responded, in the flat and inscrutable manner he spoke in when he was slightly irked but didn't want to give Will any pleasurable benefit from it. “You're bound to be very sensitive still, and I wouldn't want to hurt you.” Hannibal continued, parting Will's cheeks to examine his hole. He gently let his thumb press against it, presumably to test this theory of his, and felt Will twitch open eagerly. “After all, I did chew on you.” Hannibal mentioned, with a particular edge of humor to his voice.

Will widened his lips into a smirk. “Hmm, well, I like being chewed on.” He contested in a characteristic half-murmur. It was almost on the verge of shocking that Hannibal hadn't given him any love bites yet this time; normally Hannibal positively reveled doing so, peppering Will nearly from head to toe with sore little circles of teeth marks.

Taking his hint, Hannibal chuckled lightly and pulled himself up close to his partner, leaning down slowly and gingerly to nuzzle at his now-unruly curls and drink in his exhilarating smell. Now that their bodies were flush with one another, Will curled his spine to press his back against Hannibal's chest, and couldn't help but gasp at feeling the feverish heat of lust radiating from Hannibal pass right through the layers of clothing still between them. Hannibal did not protest, being likely too aroused by now to consider doing so; his hands landed on Will's chest and slithered up and down his body, occasionally grasping feebly at nothing as he breathed in Will's warm, horribly hormonal scent and the want within him magnified exponentially. He nipped at the nape of Will's neck, not yet truly biting down but letting the very tip of his tongue catch a taste of that sweat that still lingered on the surface of Will's skin. As Hannibal's attention traveled down to the sides of his neck, he lavished Will with profuse kisses, lingering on each one for just a moment to tease Will with the prospect of leaving a mark.

He certainly would've loved to suck Will's skin between his lips until he left a decadent little ruddy splotch that would stick around for a day or so, ever reminding Will of this lurid encounter of theirs; however, he knew such a marking would be conspicuous – difficult for Will to hide, and even more difficult to explain. While he had no real intention of tormenting Will to such an extent, Hannibal still felt a dark little thrill at the idea of giving him a suck bruise to dwell on.

“Be _careful_.” Will hissed, finally acknowledging the thinly-veiled taunts trailing each the kisses Hannibal laid on his neck. “I told you not to give me hickeys.” He muttered sulkily, pushing his shoulders up to nudge Hannibal away from him.

“I won't.” Hannibal reassured his partner, nuzzling the base of his neck to atone for his rudeness in making Will think he would mark him openly. “I'm only teasing, Will. I know you don't want me to mark your neck.” He purred, giving soft caresses of his lips to further add to his apology. “After all, we wouldn't want to start any unsavory rumors, would we?” A malevolent snicker chased that rhetorical question out of his mouth, and Will ceased to relax into his fawning. Hannibal's hands crawled their way up to his chest, grasping through his shirt at his nipples and the sensitive muscles surrounding them. “What kinds of questions do you think Jack would ask?” Hannibal growled provocatively. He gave Will a beat of pause to let his apprehensions bloom fully before continuing with, “What would Alana ask -” And then he broke again to kiss Will's neck hard, within scarcely an inch of leaving a hickey that would stay there. “When they saw the suck marks on your neck?” He gasped as he released, grinning at the wet spot his hungering mouth had left. “They'd think you'd been a very naughty man.” Hannibal's voice had now shied down next to a whisper, with a dreamlike softness to it as though he was _fantasizing_ more so than he was antagonizing Will.

“None of their business.” Will grunted dismissively, with the edge of a chuckle to acknowledge that he knew that wasn't really true.

“Isn't it?” Hannibal immediately countered, sensing Will's self-awareness. “You _have_ been a very naughty man, Will. Keeping secrets...” Hannibal paused deliberately once again to shamelessly suckle at the tender, rippling skin right below his jaw, where his pulse thrummed closest to the surface. “Fucking your therapist.” He hissed right beside Will's ear, making sure he heard every single hiss and flutter in those words.

One of Hannibal's hands glided up over Will's shoulder and began pawing at his collar, tugging it down to reveal a more available patch of flesh for his teeth to sink into. Somewhere the bite marks could easily hide, but where there was still the tantalizing prospect that a glimpse of them might be caught somehow. Hannibal couldn't help but lick his lips as he thought about sinking his teeth into Will at last. Even that pervasive ache between his legs as his sex cried to be touched would not serve to deter him right now. With an unseemly little purr, he opened his mouth and settled his teeth in, making sure they were positioned for a satisfying bite before bearing down. Will's tense skin offered just a moment of delectable resistance before bowing under Hannibal's teeth. Hannibal responded by clenching his jaw and sinking his teeth in even harder, reveling in the feeling of Will's flesh caving beneath them for a second longer before releasing. Dull pain flooded in immediately after his teeth left, a harsh undercurrent pulling against the sharp pain that the act of biting had already laid there. Will gave a weak, wanton moan in reply to this sensation, hoping Hannibal appreciated it.

He'd been cultivating another snarky comeback before the prospect of getting such a deeply sensual bite had wiped his mind of any other thoughts. Hannibal had treated that act with almost ceremonious reverence, and that had been enough to stop Will from even considering interrupting him. Now, even though that spot of dull pain down by the base of his neck remained a persistent distraction, he had at least enough capacity to keep matching Hannibal's bets.

“Well...” He began, interrupted by a deep breath and the impulse to roll his shoulders as they threatened to shudder yet again. “That means _you've_ been a very naughty psychiatrist, doesn't it, Dr. Lecter?” Will purred, his voice stiff but still coy enough to betray that he was playing. Hannibal let his tongue flick past his lips to caress the throbbing bite he'd left, softly licking deeper pangs of pain into Will. The mark from that would definitely stay there for a little while; he was glad Hannibal was courteous enough to keep it off the skin that was typically left exposed. “I don't think tying your patients to a chair and getting them off in your office is standard practice, now is it?” Will continued, sounding as sultry and coquettish as he could while trying not to betray how sensitive those rapidly-forming bruise spots really were. He was immensely relieved when Hannibal stopped pushing at the bite marks with his tongue and turned his attention to nuzzling the bow of Will's curled neck.

“A bit unorthodox.” Hannibal remarked rather casually. “But, I am maintaining your mental well-being.” He hummed, trying to undo the top few buttons of Will's shirt as slyly as possible.

“What about maintaining your own?” Will questioned, now unsubtly pushing his butt back against Hannibal's sex, both making sure it was still hard and hopefully prompting him to finally get on with sating himself. Having freed a bit more material, Hannibal had now managed to pull Will's shirt down over one of his shoulders, baring more smooth, pale, positively delicious skin. He had gotten his taste, and now he wanted more. He mouthed his way along the taut muscle strung tightly over Will's shoulder blade, the light touches of his lips tickling faintly as he searched for the most perfectly tense point to leave another bite mark. Hannibal pressed himself so hard against Will that he could practically feel Hannibal's cock lurch in his pants as the man relaxed his jaw and let his mouth envelop the apex of Will's shoulder, teeth pressing softly for a split second to enjoy the way it withstood before clamping down again.

Will gave a high, trembling wail as Hannibal sank his teeth into him a second time. For one reason or another, this bite didn't last quite as long, and when Hannibal released Will could tell it wouldn't hurt anywhere near as much as the first one. Hannibal's temperance must have been faltering at last.

Will found that thought greatly encouraging, and urged Hannibal on with a miserable, longing groan. In reply, Hannibal laid a gentle kiss right beneath the fresher bite marks, but refrained from speaking. Now marginally annoyed, Will scoffed and urged him with, “Come on, Hannibal.”

Hannibal exhaled a huff of amusement at his lover's impatience. But, thankfully for Will, Hannibal was also growing impatient – far too impatient to tease himself much longer. He inhaled deeply against the wild wisps of hair fluttering out from the back of Will's head, and on pure instinct reacted by grinding hard against Will's ass, causing the man beneath him to gasp in wanton desperation. With a low growl rippling just below his throat, Hannibal arched his groin free of contact with Will's body and snaked his hands down to release his erection at last. Will heard him struggle slightly as he clawed thoughtlessly at his belt; his heart lurched to think that Hannibal was now so overwhelmed by desire that he was barely even able to get his cock out of his pants. As soon as he could manage Hannibal had his hand wrapped around his shaft and was stroking himself fervently, letting ardent, breathy groans of long-repressed pleasure cascade from his lips one after another. Will let his eyes fall shut and relinquished all his thoughts to those beautiful and graceless sounds his lover was making as he finally allowed himself pleasure.

That unfaltering will to hold back was finally gone from Hannibal as he straightened his back, spat on his palm, and stroked it along the underside of his cock, so that when he crudely spread Will out one more time to rub the length of his shaft across Will's hole it slid just a little bit easier. Will very suddenly understood what Hannibal had meant about him being oversensitive, giving a full-body shudder at how violently he experienced that single sensation. Even as Hannibal continued to move, running his length up and down over Will's opening in a slow, steady pattern, the friction against his rim grew no more pleasurable. He recoiled slightly, though with a tinge of reluctance, and Hannibal halted as soon as he noticed this.

“Ahh, you see?” Hannibal sighed hoarsely, relaxing his hands and letting them glide back up Will's spine in order to occupy himself. “I told you you would be too sensitive.” He sounded almost chiding, despite the fact that Will had been the passive one in this circumstance. However, Will didn't argue with him, just grunted quietly in concession. After Hannibal had spent so much time chewing and sucking on and licking his rim, then fucking him hard with his fingers, he was sorer than he'd care to admit. He still _wanted_ Hannibal to fuck him, of course, but Hannibal was very unlikely to do so if he thought it would hurt Will, and Will could tell he probably wouldn't be able to take it – not like he wanted to, anyway, and definitely not like Hannibal wanted to.

As Will was readying himself to offer a different solution, he was interrupted by Hannibal unexpectedly leaving his post behind him. He let out a little whimper of surprise and tried to crane his neck to see where Hannibal was going. When he glimpsed the man delving into one of his bureaus, he got a good idea of what Hannibal was going after, if not a great idea of what he planned to do with it; concealed beneath the reasonably innocuous cover of those rich mahogany cabinets were numerous items and substances of questionable necessity in Hannibal's line of work, and that included at least one bottle of 'medical' lube that he kept around specifically for situations like this. Though, if he didn't intend to penetrate Will, then what he intended to use it for was still in question.

Thankfully, he made his absence brief, likely due to his continued state of desperation. Both were glad when Hannibal was back at the helm of Will's body and they could feel each other's warmth once more. Will rubbed his face on the arm of Hannibal's chair again and gave a little satisfied whine as Hannibal's familiar, supple hands slithered up and down his thighs. Then, with an inscrutable grunt of strain, Hannibal patted Will's leg (which seemed to be becoming a trend before his commands) and ordered, “Move your legs a little closer together.” Will did as he was bade and was rewarded with another, _“Good man.”_ He heard Hannibal promptly open the anticipated bottle of lube and give himself a few energetic strokes in order to slick his shaft down, before finally managing to coerce himself into stopping so that he could prepare his partner. Will continuously kept glancing over his shoulder several times out of curiosity, but that didn't serve to ready him for Hannibal sliding a lube-streaked palm up against his inner thigh. Quite surprised by this sensation, Will writhed a little at the strangeness of that slick feeling against a part of his body that wasn't accustomed to it, but Hannibal's voice quickly soothed him back into stillness.

Will picked up on Hannibal's intentions in a moment, and remained complacent as Hannibal stroked his other thigh until they were both reasonably slick enough for him to slide his cock between. They adjusted their positions a little further, placing Will's legs tightly enough together for the friction to be pleasurable. It was jarring, at first, to feel Hannibal's cock thrust between his thighs like that, but Will stayed put and let him do so. Hannibal found a rhythm quickly, making short, rapid shoves between the parallel patches of slick skin. It grew to feel less awkward within a few moments, the movements reminiscent of penetrative sex but without the essential feeling of Hannibal's cock pushing against all the pleasure spots inside him. Though he was still somewhat loath to be deprived of that, Will knew that this would be preferable for both of them; Hannibal could fuck between Will's legs as hard as he wanted without hurting him or having to worry about doing so.

Yet that didn't mean it wasn't without its own lesser hazards. One slightly shaky thrust, and Hannibal's cock slid against Will's balls and his spent shaft, eliciting a flinch and a weak groan from an overstimulated Will. His orgasm had been so flooring that a touch that strong was still unwelcome, and that faint little throb it caused at the base of his spine as his cock nearly threatened to get hard again was even more unwelcome. Hannibal did notice that he'd affected Will (or at least indicated so), and slowed for a moment – not asking anything but still seeming to search for a response. Though he found none, he still made an attempt to steady his thrusts so that his angle stayed a bit lower. Will clenched his thighs for a moment and was sinfully delighted by the way Hannibal's staggered shoves through his legs quickened.

There was already a rasp to Hannibal's breath now; the fervor of everything they'd done prior had blunted him somewhat, and Will didn't imagine he would last all too long at this point – though, as things were, that wasn't really any problem. Not able to keep the muscle of his inner thighs tensed for too long at a time, Will reluctantly relaxed and compensated with very slight movements of his hips, wanting to continue supplementing the pleasure Hannibal felt from rubbing his cock there. And, knowing how much Hannibal relished a good opportunity to talk dirty to Will, it seemed like a fine idea to grace him with a good starting point. Leaning his weight forward so that he could relax a little more (and subsequently catching Hannibal's attention by making him follow that slight forward movement), Will fluttered out a warm sigh before humming, “Mmh, you like it like this?” Just a short prompt to bring him back from his focused silence, to get a little more of that delightful lurid speech.

“Oh, yes, Will.” Hannibal grunted, tightening his hold on Will's hips until Will was absolutely certain he'd develop a scattering of raw bruises there from the sheer force of Hannibal's fingertips curling hard into his flesh. “So good for me.” Hannibal stammered, his voice no more than hoarse, hot breath by this point. “Going to make me come just like this.” At the mere mention of such, Will whined and shook and tightened his thigh muscles again, putting pressure on Hannibal's cock and feeling hot under his collar as he thought about finally getting Hannibal to come for him after everything. He'd neglected himself for so long, even with Will continuously pressuring him to get on with it, and now at long last he was getting _close_. Through all that he'd managed to bring Will to a point where _he_ was excited at the prospect of Hannibal's climax drawing nearer. Hannibal continued rutting – aimlessly but passionately – between Will's closely-pressed legs, his speech collapsing yet again and being replaced by fervent panting.

“Nn – so beautiful, Will; you're so beautiful.” Hannibal's voice sprang from between those shallow, scattered breaths with renewed intensity. “Doing so well. Just take a little more for me.” The most he could muster seemed to be a gravelly murmur, but Will was worlds away from discontentment at that. Hannibal was no longer so much as attempting to hold onto his composure, and from Will's perspective there was nothing more sumptuous in the world.

“Of course, sir.” Was Will's answer to that last near-plea of his. His voice was coy and honeyed and laden with an obvious awareness of what effect it would have on Hannibal. Hannibal choked on a rich moan of enjoyment, trying to suppress himself so as not to give in to Will quite so easily but still managing to award him with plenty of satisfaction. Hannibal leaned forward, shallowing his thrusts between Will's thighs so that he could jerk one of his hands up to thread his trembling fingers through Will's thicket of curls once more. There were still spots of damp, drying sweat hidden in there, and when Hannibal's grasping fingers found them he started sounding positively _feeble_. His expressions of pleasure fragmented, shattering down into tiny, jagged shards of sound that could've been pieced back into words if he'd had the strength. Will's name was short enough to fit in among those erratic, shapeless syllables every now and again, leaping through Hannibal's teeth at every chance it had.

“Clench your...” Hannibal sought speech and only barely found his way there, being torn away almost instantly by the searing arousal throbbing through his entire being, every heartbeat seeming to amplify it past what he even imagined possible. “Clench your thighs again, Will.” Hannibal ordered gruffly, teeth tight against each other. Will hesitated for a split second, thrilled to euphoria by the thought of forcing an already-desperate Hannibal to beg more fiercely for him. However, even that mere moment of pause was enough to provoke Hannibal to clutch as much of Will's hair as he could at once and hiss Will's name in a tense, demanding voice. That was all it took to convince Will to eagerly stiffen his thigh muscles yet again.

Short and rapid shoves through the perfectly narrow gap between Will's legs ensued. Hannibal groaned freely, now relieved of his last touch of restraint. Will closed his eyes and relinquished himself to those sounds and the thrumming rhythm of Hannibal's cock pounding back and forth between the hot, sensitive skin of his inner thighs. He willed himself as close as he could get to not caring about the way Hannibal's shaft kept brushing against his own, but heard a cascade of yelps and strained grunts fall from his lips nonetheless. There was still no way he could get fully hard again, and the repeated, erratic stimulation remained nothing more than tolerable at best. Hannibal noticed Will retreating and, with a low, primal growl, let one of his hands lurch down Will's front and grab him roughly, pulling his sex out of the way so that he could maintain his now-rapid pace without obstruction. Will squealed beneath him as he did so, stricken by the heat and pressure of Hannibal's palm against his fucked-out cock and oversensitive balls.

Will's shaft twitched helplessly, trapped firmly between Hannibal's soft-yet-searingly-hot hand and Will's own skin at the very lowest point of his stomach, trying vainly to stiffen back up a second time. Hannibal ignored it completely, and Will attempted to do the same, trying to fix his thoughts instead on how close his partner was. Adoring words continued to fall out of him with a fervor, each phrase less intelligible than the last.

“Ah, you feel so good, Will.” Hannibal coughed. Will pushed back into his thrusts in order to hold himself steady. “You're so perfect, _mano angelas,_ so perfect for me.” Hannibal leaned forward sharply now, his hips still bucking wildly as he panted and crooned over his beloved object of pleasure. Only when he became exceptionally flustered did Hannibal lapse into his mother tongue like that, which made it an inimitable delight. Will got no chance to savor it, however, for as soon as Hannibal finished his fragmented statement he broke into a movement of loud, tremoring moans. Giving no more warning than that, he slowed his formerly frenetic shoves and crudely withdrew from between Will's thighs. With one trembling hand, he sought to spread Will out again, keeping his other hand anchored to his cock as he stroked himself vigorously. Noticing that he was struggling somewhat, Will attempted to move his legs apart a little further, but ended up having scarcely a second before Hannibal came.

No matter how abrupt it was, the feeling of Hannibal's seed spilling out over his hole sent Will spiraling into a state of near-euphoria. He moaned as passionately as he could manage and went half-limp on top of the desk, enveloped in a debauched flavor of bliss. All manner of huffs and growls staggered past Hannibal's teeth as he rubbed his stiff, swollen cock, some primal hedonism urging him to draw as much pleasure from his orgasm as was possible. The picture of Will laid out before him – relaxed and releasing soft mewls of pleasure, long-since spent and now elated to feel his partner's climax – was nothing if not beautiful. As his raspy moans simmered down to pleasured sighs, Hannibal glimpsed Will's hole twitching as though in anticipation and couldn't help but want to sate it. Though still weak after his orgasm, Hannibal promptly let go of his shaft and swiped his thumb up over the sticky trail of cum he'd left beneath Will's opening, collecting it on his fingertip before very gently pushing his thumb past the rim to shove it inside.

Will shivered and shut his eyes and groaned for Hannibal again. A lusty smirk couldn't help but form on Hannibal's lip right before he opened his mouth to purr, “Mmh, you like that?” Will was clutching him, tightening harder around his thumb the deeper he pushed it, then spitting out a broken gasp as Hannibal withdrew.

“Y...y-yes.” Will barely managed to answer. “I w-want it inside.” Hannibal tenderly stroked up towards his lower back, his other hand unsubtly moving to draw the spots of semen that had landed above his hole down into it as well.

“Yes you do.” Hannibal murmured delightedly as Will's opening grasped at his thumb again. “Such a good man. Want all of my seed inside you.” A croon that Hannibal could only imagine was a resounding agreement came from Will. As he somewhat reluctantly released his thumb for a second time to give Will his reprieve at last, Hannibal pressed himself up against Will and leaned down over his back. First his stomach and then his chest aligned themselves with Will's spine so immaculately it almost seemed as though they were meant to fit together this way. This connection was followed by a few soft, warm kisses scattered over Will's neck, and more loving caresses along his legs. Then, as though trying to keep will from noticing, Hannibal stealthily moved his hands up towards Will's arms and strained forward even further, delicately undoing the rigid knot in the tie that had held his partner's hands in place for what felt like an eternity.

Will was unbelievably relieved to finally feel that virulent grip on his wrists release. Both pulsed with pain for a few moments, but as he rolled them repeatedly, blood started flowing back to his hands at last and the stiffness subsided. Hannibal offered some aid by bringing his own hands in to lightly massage the sore spots on Will's wrists, all the while laying more delicate kisses along his neck and at the base of his jaw. His breath, still hot and trembling, bounced off the taut surface of Will's skin, a sensation almost more exhilarating than the touch of Hannibal's soft lips. Being pressed together the way they were, Will could easily feel Hannibal's heartbeat lurching hard against the wall of his chest, reverberating from there through Will's spine and down his ribs, causing his own heart to start pounding in sync with Hannibal's.

“You did so good, Will.” Hannibal rasped. After clearing his throat, he paused for a second, obviously still reeling from his orgasm. Will gave a happy little purr and brought his hands under himself, coaxing Hannibal into finally letting go of his wrists so that he could put some of his weight on his hands. “Did you feel good?” Hannibal asked, keeping his voice quiet to hide its frailty from Will, regardless of the fact that Will was already fully aware of how raw Hannibal had been left by his climax.

“Mm-hmm.” Will answered him with an airy hum, feeling contentedly weary enough that he probably could've fallen asleep right on top of Hannibal's desk if he'd so desired. Hannibal expertly located one of the now-receding bite marks he'd left below Will's neck earlier and mouthed at its sensitive edges, simultaneously pulling his arms firmly around Will's chest so that he couldn't retreat even if he wanted to.

“You liked taking my tongue?” Hannibal continued, happily listening to the string of muted grunts Will produced as he continued worrying those sore little tooth marks.

“_God,_ yes.” Will gasped, closing his eyes for a moment as he turned their session over in his mind, dwelling as he had been invited to on the fresh memories of that heat, that ardor, that brilliant intensity they had woven between them. Hannibal's whole body seemed to ripple against Will as he moved, nuzzling his face back into the perfectly soft embrace of Will's hair to breathe him in yet again. Will did not resist; he felt the urge to move gnawing at him, his muscles nagging him to get out of the position he'd been held fast in until now, but he overrode that desire with his own want to accommodate Hannibal. A brief period of rest and intimacy felt well-deserved for both of them, but particularly for Hannibal, who still needed a little time to finish slowly regaining himself.

“Good.” Hannibal remarked, with a newfound burst of cheer to his voice, perhaps brought upon him as a product of his love for Will's scent. “I thought you might.” And, as quickly as his voice had spiked, he lowered it again, returning to a rhythmic, sensual murmur. Will found himself suddenly blessed by impatience and immediately set about shuffling Hannibal off of him so that he could kiss his lips again. Hannibal kissed him back with equal passion, still seeking to hold Will as close as possible through their change in position. Once they parted, Hannibal moved straight to kissing down his jaw, stopping to nip playfully at his ear. “I loved tasting you, Will.” He whispered, his voice wavering again – though this time it was most likely intentional. Will whined slightly at him in response, and Hannibal gave half of a warm chuckle before soothing him with another affectionate kiss, this time placed right at the point where his neck met with his jaw.

Will grasped aimlessly at Hannibal, catching a handful of his shirt and then, not knowing what to do once he'd obtained it, promptly letting go. Much to his chagrin, Hannibal soon started to pull away, his eyes making a quick, indecipherable survey of his partner as he did so. Then his eyes flashed with interest for a moment, and he abruptly opened his mouth to speak.

“Ah, let me help you get clean.” Hannibal declared, swiftly lessening the intensity of their closeness. Will couldn't help but feel a little burst of longing, but knew that, as much as they would've loved to stay like that forever, they eventually had to part one way or another. “I've held you up for long enough already tonight.” Hannibal insisted. With only that as a final warning, Hannibal proceeded to leave Will's space entirely, darting off to fetch a rag so that he could wipe at least most of the lube off of Will's thighs. Though Will was wholly capable of doing as much himself, he didn't protest and let Hannibal do it for him, knowing that he would likely insist anyway.

“I don't mind.” Will hummed lowly. “I like it when you take your time with me.” He continued, noticing that Hannibal was also taking his time with cleaning Will's thighs. Will smiled a little at how predictable and persistent his fussing was. Once Hannibal was satisfied, he examined Will again, but Will gave him no time to go back in for anything else before he stood up from the table and hastily jerked his pants back up around his waist. Hannibal huffed at his indignance, but didn't scold him.

“And I love to take my time with you.” Hannibal replied with a short smile. As Will was shuffling his belt back into place, Hannibal slid in behind him to pick his tie from where he'd let it rest there on the desk. As he brushed past Will, he lingered for a moment to add, “I would be a fool not to savor you, Will.” Will paused in the process of buttoning the top of his shirt back up to look over at Hannibal. A short yet indescribably warm kiss ensued, lingering for several seconds before they parted languidly. Afterwards they shared a silent, adoring smile, and Hannibal gently smoothed Will's hair again.

Then, after that tender pause, Will finally spoke up with, “Same time next week, then?”

“Of course.”


End file.
